Hey, it’s summer and there’s a Gawker commenter meetup tomorrow and I have to get presentable and meet someone I’ve never seen before for drinks at Connor Butler in three hours and I still have to get this apartment ready for a houseguest or at least throw the sheets in the washing machine and take out the recycling so he doesn’t think I’m an alkie and make a post about my new blogging classes and I was supposed to get the press release out today but instead I had to wrestle with the damn computer for hours and restart upon restart and don’t even ASK about the Zune and besides, there’s a total buckpassing issue that I have to solve one way or another in the next 12 days not that you asked but have you heard anything? and don’t even ask about the personal life plus there’s an event going on tomorrow that I’m really looking forward to and was supposed to have all the sequins sewn on by today but I don’t but Irwin says the event doesn’t exist and I suppose an arts administrator would say if an event falls at Trout Lake but nobody administers it does it occur at all? but then I’m an anarchist, so what do you think I said, eh? Plus I’ve had two requests in the past 24 hours for a sandbagging tutorial (ie “I have a troll on my ass and I want to lay the smackdown on him; can you help?” Oh, baby, it’s what I DO!) which I totally would have done except:
A) why let the enemy read your battle plans and
B) computer problems (see above).
So I don’t know about you, but I need this. A mashup of Britney Spears’s Toxic and the B-52’s Love Shack:
Man, what a stream of consciousness! I don’t know how you manage to be you, but you are the only one who could pull that off. Busy weekend? Tell us about it when it’s done? BTW, how’s the Zune, and the personal life? ;)
hey those two songs go really well together. who da thunk it? apart from Thriftshop XL?
And yeah, it’s stream of consciousness weekend!
Even though my stream is currently a dribble (consciousness, I mean) at least I confirmed my almost 20-year old mystery – Don Was was playing keyboards in ‘Love Shack’
WAS, not ‘was’
Hey, corrected emphasis AND a visual pun. My consciousness is coming, coming, commingggg . . .
Whereas for me I was unconscious through much of the weekend, the bartender at Connor Butler being responsible for that.
Literally the last thing I remember is him saying, “I can give you a discount…”
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Would it help if I lied and said I typed that last post one-handed?
Are we sure we can believe you’re lying?
Of course – there’s no stains on the post.